


with a secret like that

by spacenarwhal



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacenarwhal/pseuds/spacenarwhal
Summary: Hell's Kitchen takes care of it's own.Brett's spent his whole life hearing it spoken like the gospel truth.[Or: Daredevil's secret identity isn't as secret as he thinks.]





	with a secret like that

**Author's Note:**

> first bingo entry for Daredevil Bingo Round 2 
> 
> Prompt **Officers of the Law**

“Found another one.” Garrett says when she comes in, wielding what looks like a collection of red sticks. Marco curses. Santiago laughs. “Pay up, bud.” She says, brown eyes brighten as Garrett places the sticks down on the table. “Lost and found, boss?” Garrett asks, while Marco pulls a wrinkled five dollar bill from his wallet and hands it to Santiago.

Brett sighs, stirs another Splenda into his coffee. He’s only been on the clock for twenty minutes. It’s definitely too early for this.

“Yes, please Garrett.”

-

Murdock’s got a bruise the size of a grapefruit on the right side of his face. It looks like someone’s tried to do a shitty job covering it with make-up—Page probably—but the color’s just a few shades too pale. Foggy’s talking a mile a minute, ambling down a twisting trail of nonsense, probably in an effort to distract Brett from the obvious.

“So you really had no idea that your client’s landlord was dealing on the side? Or that Daredevil had apprehended him and turned him into police custody?” Brett asks, because he has to. Page is sitting at the table set up in what used to be the living room of Foggy’s childhood home, tapping her pen against her notebook. He and Foggy used to have sleepovers here when they were kids.

“Did he?” Foggy asks, eyes widening comically, pink rising to his cheeks. Guy still can’t lie worth a damn.

Murdock takes a step forward. His cane looks newer, the paint shiny red. “Well, thank you for telling us detective. I hope you’ll be amendable to testifying on our client’s behalf when we take her case before a judge looking for adequate reparations.”

Brett doesn’t roll his eyes. It’s a near thing. “You guys have my number.”

-

Marcos knocks over three shelves of cleaning supplies. Brett stares silently at the officer in question, then at the mess of window cleaner and paper towel rolls to the seemingly innocent walking cane in his hands. Everything smells like artificial pine needles.

“Figured out how it turns into a grappling hook, boss.” Marco says weakly.

Brett feels a headache blooming between his eyes. “Make sure you clean this up.”

-

“Mr Murdock?” Santiago says, voice oddly high-pitched and thin. Brett waits in the doorway, watches her at the front desk, signing Jones over to Murdock after a night in the tank. Brett knows the woman’s capable of busting her own way free so he especially appreciates the fact that she used her one phone call instead. “You wouldn’t be the same Murdock who helped lock up Wilson Fisk a few years ago, would you?”

Murdock’s ears go red, and Santiago’s cheeks go redder and Brett feels his whole head pulse like it’s about to explode. “Yeah, my partners and I helped the district attorney put the case together against him. Both times.”

Santiago nods, then hastily adds, “And Daredevil, right? You helped Daredevil too.”

Murdock clears his throat, rolls his shoulders, “Um, can I go see Ms Jones or—”

Santiago nods, then stops herself and verbally informs Murdock he can.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree.” Brett tells her later in the break room when he catches her sniffing a plastic container of day old stir fry. “Murdock’s married to his work. And his coworkers.”

“And the night?” Santiago adds glibly, even though there’s definitely a note of excitement in her voice when she says it.

Brett doesn’t even respond to that. There’s no accounting for some people’s taste.

-

Foggy comes by on Wednesday asking questions about something that went down two precincts over with barely a story to cover up why he’s asking.

“Your horned friend asking for information?” Brett asks and Foggy takes it in stride, leaning forward and resting his hands on Brett’s desk. “Please, Brett you know he doesn’t rock the horns anymore.” He smiles sunnily. “Besides, isn’t he really _our_ friend these days?”

-

“Got another one.” Garrett says, waving another walking stick as she comes into the break room. Marco is out on patrol but Santiago still cheers, rushes over to the scrap of paper taped to the fridge door where the team makes their bets for the week. “One more and I win again!” She says, obviously more caffeinated than any single human being should be at this hour.

Brett takes the walking stick from Garrett and walks the walking stick over to lost and found himself this time, sets it down with its two compatriots. He pictures Murdock with a closet full of walking sticks, one for every day of the week. How else does the guy do this?

(Admittedly, compared to the notion of a blind man fighting his way through the underbelly of the Hell’s Kitchen, maybe a few extra canes isn’t too big a leap, but still. It sticks in Brett’s craw, one more mystery he’d like to solve.)

-

“Detective Mahoney.” Daredevil says, standing on the fire escape across from Brett. His face is lost in shadows from this angle but the voice, the voice has always been the give away. It just took Brett a while to realize it. He's spent the last few years trying to tune out Nelson and his friend. “Did you find them?” Brett isn't sure if Murdock's asking about the human traffickers he left bound and unconscious in the penthouse across the street or the basement full of young men and women waiting to be sold.

“Found them. Got the culprits in custody and taking the victims to the hospital for check ups. We’ll be placing them in shelters until we’ve figured out what to do with them.”

“The sisters at Saint Agnes are prepared to offer shelter to however many need it.” Daredevil says from up above, more an avenging angel than a demon. Brett nods, “Thanks for the tip.”

He takes a step back and turns just in time to catch Daredevil start to scale the railing to jump upward. He almost wants to watch him take the jump. There's something to watching the guy move that never gets old. “My team has a tip for you too, y’know. You should wear gloves. You’re leaving prints everywhere.”

 _Hell's Kitchen takes care of it's own._ Brett's spent his whole life hearing it spoken like the gospel truth. And he might serve the law but he serves the city first, and no one who takes the beatings the Devil's taken on their behalf is someone looking out for themselves first. And no one whose decided to commit themselves to Foggy Nelson for life has an ounce of self-preservation in their body. Obviously the guy needs someone watching his back. 

Brett turns on his heel and walks back out onto the street.


End file.
